Lonely Souls
by HopeIsHere16
Summary: In 1823, Jean Valjean saved Eponine, rather than Cosette, from the Thenardiers. He raised her as his own. Nine years later, Eponine laid her eyes on Enjolras for the first time and fell instantly in love. This is the tale of the Student Uprising in June of 1832 with quite a different love story in its center. Eponine x Enjolras pairing. R/R!
1. Part I

Lonely Souls

_A Les Mis Fanfiction_

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables, nor any of the characters or songs that you recognize!

Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing for Les Miserables, and I could not be more excited! I've been writing fanfiction for years, but with the release of the Les Mis movie, I've been more than a little bit inspired to write for my all-time favorite show :) This story will be an Eponine/Enjolras pairing, so if that's not your thing...I apologize :P The premise here is that Eponine was the child adopted by Valjean in 1823, and Eponine falls in love with Enjolras, rather than Marius, in 1832 :) Enjoy the tale, and don't forget to review! Thank you for clicking on!

By the way - this _is _a one-shot, but it's separated into five parts so it's kind of like a mini story :) Thank you!

* * *

_Part 1_

The sun was at the exact center point of the sky when Eponine saw Enjolras for the first time.

It was her first week as a resident of Paris. Eponine was used to moving around frequently; her father was an overly cautious man, and his primary goal in life was to ensure Eponine's safety. When he had come for Eponine nine years earlier, she could not have imagined the existance she would lead. Eponine did not have any friends; it was not because she wasn't good or kind, it was because friendships always led to heartache. Eponine had learned over the years that she and her dear father never stayed in any one place too long.

"Vive la France! Vive la France!"

Eponine was not used to living in a large city, and all the noises and smells were things she would have to eventually get used to. She heard the shouting of citizens from several blocks away, and she raised an eyebrow at her father questioningly.

"What is it, Eponine?" he asked curiously, interested in anything his daughter had to say. With only each other for company, Eponine and her father were incredibly close, and loved each other very much.

"Don't you hear the people sing?" questioned Eponine. "A few blocks away?"

Eponine's father, whose name was Jean Valjean, cocked his head to the side slightly and strained to hear what his daughter obviously heard. After a moment of careful listening, Valjean turned back to Eponine.

"Revolutionaries." he confirmed, nodding his head. "The citizens of France aren't very happy with their king at the moment, my dear."

"But why?" asked Eponine, knitting her brows together in confusion. Eponine did not know much about politics, and was too sheltered to know much about what life was like for the average citizens of Paris. She couldn't imagine what a king was doing that was so horrible it would spark another revolution.

"We tried to change the world too quickly after the fall of our _last _king." explained Valjean gently. His eyes bored into Eponine's, and his tone suddenly became very serious. He and Eponine had been walking casually down the road, and he even stopped their trek to ensure that he had his daughter's full attention when he spoke. "I know how your curiosity can often get the better of you, 'Ponine." he stated. "But you must _not _go _anywhere _near what those boys are planning. They're going to be in very serious trouble with the law, and the last thing we need is to get arrested. We must fade into the background here, alright? Do you understand me?"

Eponine felt she was being treated like a petulant child, and she turned her face away in anger. She was never allowed to do anything independently! Her father was crushing her with his worrisome ways.

"Papa, I'm no longer a child." said Eponine sourly. She gave her father an angry look with her deep brown eyes. "If I wanted to join this revolution, I like to think that you would not be able to stop me."

Valjean's eyes instantly filled with panic, and he became more stern with Eponine. He wasn't cruel or strict with his daughter most of the time, but she was sometimes too adventurous for her own good. "Eponine, I say this for your own good. If I even get the smallest idea from _anyone _that you plan to wander towards this death sentence, we'll leave Paris as quickly as we came and I'll keep you under lock and key. I just want to keep you safe!"

"I'm not a slave, papa!" screeched Eponine a bit more loudly than she'd meant to. At the moment, however, she did not care who heard. Perhaps if someone intervened during their argument, they could talk some sense into her father. "You can't keep me prisoner in our own home! You don't know what it's _like _to always have someone breathing down your neck! You watch my _every_ move. All I want is freedom!"

"You have no brand upon your skin." Valjean said blackly, his eyes and heart turning to stone. Eponine became frightened, but her resolve did not waver. She stood up to her father with the confidence he had instilled within her for nine years. "_You _are the one who does not know the meaning of scrutiny. You are youthful and free. Bask in it. Others have not been as fortunate as you, my child."

Eponine glared at her father for a moment before straightening her lilac gown and correcting her posture. She was done with the subject of revolution for the day, and perhaps even done speaking with her father for the day. Rather than argue, she simply took Valjean's arm once more as he lead the way to the boulangerie.

"Would you like anything?" asked Valjean. In truth, Eponine would have loved a pastry, but she shook her head. She was not in the mood to cheerfully eat baguettes with her father on the side of the street while Paris starved below them.

"Very well." said Valjean. "I have a few things that I need to get. You may walk down the street to the patesserie if you like, but no further. Have I made myself clear?"

Eponine said nothing, but stared at her father. She gave the slightest of nods, and was on her way. She walked forward several steps, and the moment she saw that her father had turned his back to her, she dashed the three blocks it took to get to the Revolutionaries.

"Where are the leaders of the land? Where is the king who runs this show?"

The first person who immediately caught Eponine's attention was a boy on a platform. He was shouting to a crowd of people below, and his voice commanded everyone's attention. There was another who stood on the platform and spoke as well, but he was not nearly as influencial.

"...won't last the week out, so they say!"

"With all the anger in the land, how long-"

"Vive la France!"

Eponine was caught in a whirlwind of adrenaline and excitement. The air sizzled with feeling as the Revolutionaries plotted to overthrow the state. Eponine felt a small smile slip onto her face, and she began to shout with the rest of the onlookers, "Vive la France!"

The boy who'd first caught her attention was still shouting, and he met Eponine's eyes for a fraction of a moment. His gaze sent shivers down her spine, and she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. The boy gave her a nod and nothing more, before turning back to his friends and shouting to the people once more.

"Eponine!"

Eponine cringed as she heard her father's voice calling from behind her. Before she turned to face him, she made eye contact with the boy one last time. Even if she never saw his handsome face again, she was sure that the look he gave her that day would be burned forever in her memory.

* * *

_Part 2_

It was well past midnight when Eponine decided to run away til morning.

Her father was fast asleep in his room, and she was sure she could sneak away quietly. She wanted to see that boy, the Revolutionary, again. He had sparked something inside of Eponine that she had never felt before, and she longed to fight for the freedom of France. Over the course of the day, she had seen what kind of conditions those poor people lived in, and she couldn't just sit back and let others free them. Eponine's heart was too kind for that.

She slipped unnoticed into her father's room, and stole a pair of his trousers and a cap. She tucked her white nightgown into the pants, and pulled her hair up into the cap until it could no longer be seen. Eponine then put on her father's largest jacket and boots, rubbed some soot on her cheeks, and stole out the doorway.

The streets were silent, and the still night air was cold against Eponine's face. She knew the chances of finding anyone this late were slim, but she was finally experiencing a taste of freedom, and she wouldn't let that opportunity slip away.

Finally, Eponine encountered a large building called the ABC Café. She saw lights in its windows and heard singing and shouting from its many floors. Ah, she thought. So _that _was where they were planning their Revolution.

Eponine ran from the street into the open door of the café. She saw no one on the first floor, so she ran up a flight of rickety old steps to the second floor. She swore she had never seen so many people crowded into such a small space. Dozens of boys were laughing and singing and shouting and plotting. Children younger than ten were talking of battles to be won, and Eponine couldn't help but wonder what their ambition was. They all seemed like students - boys barely eighteen years old. They looked well off enough, too. Why were they fighting in the name of the poor?

Probably for the same reason Eponine felt the need to fight, she decided. They had seen the cruel conditions the poor citizens of France dwelled in, and they knew they had to help. Eponine's heart went out to them.

No one took any notice of her as she slithered her way through the throngs of people. She looked just like any other boy, fighting for what she believed in. She thanked her lucky stars she had been smart enough to wear a disguise.

Eponine's heart skipped a beat when she suddenly spotted the boy again. She had to find out his name - she had to give that scrutinizing gaze someone to belong to. She didn't understand the feelings he gave her, but she knew she wanted to see more of him. She approached him slowly, trying to walk as masculinely as she could. Just before she was able to make a fool of herself by asking for his name, she heard someone shout for him.

"Enjolras!" cried another Revolutionary who was holding three large boxes. "What do I do with these?"

"Just put them on the table, Joly, thank you." replied Enjolras quickly. He had the voice of a leader, Eponine decided. He was decisive and quick-thinking. She liked him.

Eponine was close enough to Enjolras now that she could speak to him without having to shout. She deepened her voice as much as she could and asked, "How can I help?"

Enjolras looked up at Eponine, and stared at her for a moment. His hard gaze softened ever so slightly, and Eponine found herself lost in his blue eyes. "Well," he said quietly, adding tenderness to an already intimate moment. He stepped forward, until his chest was nearly touching Eponine's arm. She grew increasingly nervous at his closeness. He gave her a smirk and said, "You can start by being honest." One arm suddenly reached up and took Eponine's cap from her head. Her dark hair fell down in waves, and she felt shame at being caught. Thankfully, everyone else was too busy to pay much attention to her.

"What gave me away?" asked Eponine angrily, wiping the soot from her face with the back of her hand. Enjolras chuckled.

"Oh, there was nothing wrong with the disguise." Enjolras laughed. "I just recognized you from earlier. You were in the square listening, weren't you?"

Eponine blushed furiously. He remembered her! "Yes, I was." she replied hastily, smiling goofily. She stuck out her hand and offered it to Enjorlas. "I'm Eponine."

Enjolras kindly took Eponine's hand and shook it. "Enjolras." he said, introducing himself as well.

"You're the one planning this Revolution then, Enjolras?" asked Eponine innocently. She didn't want to stop talking to him - the way his eyes sparkled was hypnotizing, and she didn't want the bliss to end. Was this what it felt like to...love someone?

Enjolras chuckled again. Everyone in the café seemed to be in drunkenly high spirits. "You could say that." he responded vigorously. "Tomorrow shall be the day we win our freedom!"

"_Tomorrow_?" asked Eponine in shock. "So soon?"

"It's our only chance." he said a bit more seriously, nodding. Eponine's head was swimming; she was hyper-aware of everyone near her, and she wondered if they would live to see even their next birthday. They were fighting a _man's_ war, and they were only boys.

"You're putting yourselves in tremendous danger." noted Eponine, her child-like gaze penetrating Enjolras's soul. He felt honestly touched by her concern.

"Our little lives don't count at all." said Enjolras. "If I die a martyr, then I die happy. France deserves freedom."

A smile slid its way back onto Eponine's face. "I like you a lot, Monsieur."

"I told you, it's Enjolras." came his immediate reply. He then seemed to decide on something. "I want you to do something for me, Eponine."

Eponine did not understand the sudden devotion she felt to this strange and wonderful man, but she felt it nonetheless. She told him, "Anything, Enjolras."

"Stay far away from this battle." he told her seriously. "It's no place for you. I don't understand it myself, but I feel as though I can't let you get hurt."

"I feel the same way about you." Eponine said. She locked her gaze with Enjolras's, and crept even closer to him. When their bodies made contact, both felt an electric tingle shoot throughout their bodies. It was magical. "Which is why I must be there, Monsieur. I want to see you come back safely."

"Eponine," said Enjolras exasperatedly. He sighed, and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I can already tell you're a difficult girl."

Eponine gave Enjolras a small smile. "Likewise, Monsieur."

Enjolras began to laugh, and Eponine could smell the wine on his breath. It was at that moment she understood that Enjolras did not expect to win the Revolution. He and his friends were trying to make a statement that would _some_day lead France to freedom. Maybe the others hoped to win, but Enjolras knew that they had no chance. This was their celebration - their last night of freedom and carefree fun in the world before they grew up on the battlefield and left it forever changed. Enjolras wanted to enjoy himself.

To kiss him was a split second decision, and honestly, Eponine didn't even think about her actions before she leaned forward. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to Enjolras's. He seemed stunned for a moment, but then decided not to question it. He pressed himself even closer to Eponine, and held her face in his hands. He deepened the kiss, and Eponine had never known such joy.

Without breaking the kiss or the embrace, Enjolras led Eponine away from the center of the second level. He took her to the staircase once more, and ran up the steps. He and Eponine were laughing and breathing heavily their whole ascension. When they reached the third level of the café they embraced each other once more, and Enjolras was the one to make the first move.

Their second kiss was even more passionate than their first, and Eponine felt that she never wanted to leave Enjolras's side for the rest of her life. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, and they backed up against the wall. Eponine briefly pondered if perhaps Enjolras was just drunk and unaware of what he was doing. But he seemed coherent enough, and the way he looked at her could have only been achieved by a sober man. The rest of the night, Eponine and Enjolras talked and kissed and laughed and expressed their deep affections for each other. Both wondered if it was truly possible to fall in love so fast.

* * *

_Part 3_

Eponine woke in her bed with a cloudy mind. Her thoughts immediately trailed to the night before, and Enjolras's twinkling eyes was all Eponine was aware of. Her heart filled with love, and she couldn't stop smiling. At last, the love of her life was so near. She did not know much of love, but she knew that she had found it, and she knew that she was determined to keep it safe from harm.

Eponine's singing heart immediately constricted. She remembered what the morning symbolized; the boys of the ABC Café were going to battle that very day. They were going to lose their lives to create a better world. Enjolras would put himself on the front line, and Eponine would never see him again. The thought made her stomach churn.

"I don't understand it, either." Eponine whispered to herself. "I barely know him. Yet I feel as though I cannot live without him. I must keep him safe. I must follow where he leads, and he leads to that Barricade."

Eponine could not wait a moment longer. She ran from her bedroom eagerly, and poked her head into the room of her father. He was still fast asleep - it must have been earlier than Eponine had assumed. She immediately donned the same disguise she had worn the night before, and rubbed the soot on her face again. She would go to the Barricade, and she would fight to protect Enjolras or die trying.

The only catch was that the leader of the Revolution could not be aware of her presence. If he knew she had deliberately disobeyed him, then he would be concerned about her the entire time. His guard would be down, he would be vulnerable, and someone would shoot him. The whole point of Eponine being there with him at all was to protect him. She would not ruin that.

She left her father a note. He would be absolutely furious with her when she returned from the Barricade, but she could not bring herself to care. Enjolras's life was worth any punishment her father was able to come up with. Once she had written a satisfying note for her father, Eponine took his pocket knife from his bedroom and hooked it onto her trousers. She did not think she would ever have the courage to use the weapon, but she wanted to feel that she had some form of protection.

Eponine left her house and did not look back. She ran through the streets of Paris with purpose, trying to figure out where she would be able to find the Revolutionaries. Would they be setting up the Barricade even then? Would they be waiting for some sort of sign? Eponine was completely in the dark.

And then she heard the singing.

_"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men! It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"_

The song stirred the longing within Eponine to help the cause, and she followed the sound of the voices as quickly as she could. She met the sight of Enjolras and his friends rallying the people of Paris together to throw furniture from their windows and build the Barricade. Eponine immediately joined the chaos, and stacked chairs and tables and pianos and coffins and even just regular wooden planks on top of each other. She helped as much as she was able to, and tried to keep her eye on Enjolras while she was at it.

Her lover climbed to the top of the barricade and waved a large red flag, a flag which Eponine assumed symbolized freedom for his country. His booming voice resonated through the streets of the city.

_"Red - the blood of angry men! Black - the dark of ages past! Red - a world about to dawn! Black - the night that ends at last!" _

Everyone behind the Barricade whooped and cheered and congratulated each other on getting so far. Some strangers patted Eponine on the back and thanked her for her help. Eponine smiled, but kept her eyes focused on Enjolras - he was breathlessly climbing back down to join his comrades, and Eponine felt pride for him surging within her veins.

"Rest now!" he commanded in his best assertive tone. "There is nothing more to be done until our volunteer returns with news of the enemy force. I urge you to build your strength - no doubt you shall soon be needing it!"

Everyone began to clap and cheer and crowd around Enjolras. Eponine made sure to step back a few paces so that her dearest Enjolras couldn't see her. She reminded herself frequently that her only purpose at the Barricade was to protect Enjolras. That was it.

Uneventful hours passed before Enjolras's volunteer returned with news. Not that the news was of much help to the Revolution, because one of the younger boys revealed that the volunteer was none other than Inspector Javert, a spy for the other side. Enjolras commanded that the man be thrown in the tavern and chained, and several boys immediately took to the task. Eponine shut her eyes when they beat the man - she didn't like to watch violence. How ironic it was that she had thrust herself into the middle of the Revolution, then.

That's when it happened. Someone from the other side of the Barricade was calling out to them. This was when the battle would begin - this was when Eponine would have to guard Enjolras's life. She heard Enjolras call back, "French Revolution!" The word, "Fire!" reached Eponine's ears clear as day, and the next thing she knew, bullets were flying everywhere. The Revolutionaries stood their ground, but began to fall anyway. The first boy to die was one Eponine recognized - he had been the one to speak by Enjorlas on the platform just the day before. She was sure she'd heard someone call him 'Marius'. She silently sent a prayer for Marius's soul, but her focus had to be on Enjolras.

He seemed to be doing alright. He was able to take care of himself when it came to battle. But even _his_ eyes could not be everywhere. One of the soldiers in uniform was approaching the Barricade with rising speed, and had his gun aimed right at Enjolras. He was next to the others who had climbed the mountains of furniture, and he had his hand on the trigger. Enjolras was not at all aware of his presence.

"Enjolras, no!" screamed Eponine. She had not even taken care to disguise her voice; she had panicked. Enjolras's head immediately turned to where he'd heard his name, but it was going to be too late for him if Eponine did not act quickly. Without thinking, she ran in front of the gun that was aimed at her lover, and pushed the barrel away. It went off directly next to her, and the force of it knocked her to the ground. The bullet had missed her by _centimeters_.

"Eponine, no!" cried Enjorlas in panic. He ran to her with all the speed of a breaking heart. No, no, no! He had seen her, he knew she was there! If he knew that, then he would be distracted the rest of the battle! _She _would be his very undoing! There was only one chance Eponine had to make sure that Enjolras did not have to worry about her.

She clutched her stomach in false pain, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. The darkness helped her lie, and the rain began pouring from the sky in sheets. Her poor Enjolras looked as though his very heart was broken when he saw her in her current state.

"Eponine, God, no! Please tell me you're alright, Eponine, please!" Enjolras was completely hysterical, and the tears poured from his eyes. Eponine almost wavered in her decision to lie to him, but she knew that he would be more likely to survive if he didn't have her to be concerned about.

"Don't you fret, Monsieur Enjorlas." she whispered in a cracking voice. Enjorlas immediately knelt beside her on the ground and took her into his embrace. His strong arms supported her small frame, and she swore she had never felt more at ease. His tears fell upon her face. "I don't feel any pain." she continued. Enjolras began to shrug out of his coat to put it upon Eponine; he wanted to shield her from the rain. Eponine shook her head. "A little fall of rain...can hardly hurt me now. _You're _here - that's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe...and you will keep me close...and rain...will make the flowers...grow..."

Eponine's attempts to comfort Enjolras weren't working at all. They only seemed to make him cry harder. He began to whisper to her fervently.

"Eponine, I _love _you." he croaked. The others at the Barricade stared at the pair in mute shock - no one was fighting anymore. Someone must have rid the Barricade of the national guard for the time being. The ABC boys stood with gaping mouths and wide eyes. Never had they seen their fearless leader so torn up. They took tentative steps forward in an attempt to hear what was going on, and were more than surprised to hear Enjolras use the word 'love'. "I haven't known you long," continued Enjolras, ignoring the sudden audience. All he could see was his Eponine. "So this may sound strange, but I feel _bound _to you. You mustn't leave me, Eponine, you mustn't! I - I..."

Eponine knew that if she let her act go on any longer she wouldn't be able to do the right thing. She moaned softly, went limp in Enjolras's arms, and feigned death completely. It was a clean break, and when everything was over, she could show Enjolras the truth. She felt him shake her shoulders, desparately pleading with God to take him instead. He sobbed heavily over her, and she could taste the salt in his tears fall upon her lips. He kissed her passionately several times, and it was more than difficult not to respond to those. But she knew she mustn't. She reminded herself that she was doing all of this to keep him safe and save his life. His life was more precious than any difficulties Eponine was going through.

"Enjolras," someone said from behind Eponine. "We should take her to the tavern."

"_Don't_ touch her!" shouted Enjolras blackly, nearly growling. He took Eponine into his own embrace once more, and held her tightly against his chest. Eponine felt herself being lifted, and then felt Enjolras's steady pace as he walked her to a safer place. He laid her upon the ground in a lit room, kissed her forehead once, lingered for a moment, and then walked away crying. When she was sure he was gone, Eponine sat up. That was the single hardest thing she had ever had to do. She broke down sobbing before she could think of anything else.

* * *

_Part 4_

_"Did you see them, going off to fight?" _

_"Children of the Barricade who didn't last the night." _

_"Did you see them lying where they died?" _

_"Someone used to cradle them and kiss them when they cried." _

_"Did you see them lying side by side?" _

Eponine could not bring herself to go with the other women to clean the blood of the Revolutionaries from the streets. It had been two days since the battle, and she was tormented by nightmares when she tried to sleep. All she could do was think about the events that had transpired after her 'death', and how things might have gone differently if she hadn't interfered at all.

At present, there were no known survivors of the Revolution. The death of their fearless leader, Enjolras, was all anyone in Paris was talking about. It was rumoured that he had died on the second floor of the ABC Café, holding a red flag in his hand. Eponine kept thinking about how that was exactly how Enjolras would have wanted to go. She was so proud of what Enjolras stood for, yet she was selfish enough to wish that he could have just stayed with her.

Eponine was sitting in her room by herself. When she had come home from the Barricade, in a state of unimaginable grief, her father had been gone. He had left her no note or indication of when he would be back. He had done that before, however; disappeared without warning. So Eponine was not all that concerned about him. In fact, she was glad he was gone. When he returned, she would not be able to grieve in the same way. How could her father possibly understand if she tried to? He would only question her tears, and she would not know where to begin any kind of explanation.

Eponine stared blankly at the wall in front of her. What a coward she had been. In fear she had fled from the Barricade, for the national guard had been behind the mountain of furniture and they were attacking people both living _and _dead! Swords and cannons and guns were pointed in every direction, and no one was safe. The citizens of Paris would not open their doors to the terrified schoolboys, and Eponine could so clearly see the end of everything. Without thinking, she had run off.

"Do you hear the people sing?" she croaked in a thick voice. She was mocking herself - she deserved shame and disgrace for the cowardice she had shown. "Singing the song of angry men. It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again."

All Eponine could see in her mind's eye was the sight of Enjolras falling at the hands of the people he so very much hated. She saw a gun in his face, she could practically hear the shot ringing in her ears. She had found love so quickly, only to have it so cruelly ripped away from her. Had it really been only four days since she'd met her beloved Enjolras? And now he was gone forever.

"And now I'm all alone again...nowhere to turn...no one to go to..." Eponine felt helpless. How could someone feel so much pain, yet still have a beating heart? "What's the matter with you, 'Ponine? Have you been too much on your own? So many things unclear...so many things unknown." Eponine _missed _Enjolras. She missed the taste of his kisses. She missed the conviction and raw power in his voice. She just wanted him to come back to her.

_There's a grief that can't be spoken...there's a pain goes on and on..._

Suddenly, Eponine heard her front door open. Her father must have come home at last. On a normal day, Eponine would have risen from the bed cheerfully and greeted him at the door. However, Eponine's shrivelled heart felt as though it could never be cheerful again, and she found that she couldn't remember how to smile.

It was twenty minutes before Valjean made his way to his daughter's bedroom. He didn't say anything at her obvious melancholy, and he didn't question her on her dirty face and torn clothes. He instead sat beside her on the bed, and rubbed her shoulder in a comforting motion. Eponine felt herself beginning to cry once more as her father spoke.

"You went to the Barricade." he said knowingly. Eponine knew there was no point in lying.

"It wasn't just to prove a point." she said thickly, her voice cracking several times. "I didn't just do it to go against you."

"I know." said Valjean, reaching into his pocket for something. He pulled a piece of paper out, and offered it to Eponine. The paper had tear stains on it, and ink bled through in several places, but it was still readable.

"What is this?" Eponine asked cautiously. She took the parchment from her father's grasp while he answered.

"This arrived for you on the morning the Barricade fell. You were already gone." stated Valjean simply. Eponine was surprised that he normally over-controlling father was not even angry with her.

Eponine unfolded the paper, and held in front of her. She was sobbing heavily before she even finished the first line.

_My dearest Eponine,_

_The night I shared with you was something I will always cherish. Can it be only a day since we met, and the world was reborn? It is the thought of your smile and your inquisitive gaze that shall keep my spirits high tonight when all hope seems to be gone. You _are _the reason for this Revolution, my Eponine. It is so that you, and those like you, have the right to live in a free country. Though you may have more than some of the unlucky citizens who roam these streets, there are still those who would take advantage of you and of your money. It is those monsters who I shall fight against. If I should die in the battle to come, let this be my goodbye. Before I saw your face in the square yesterday morning, I swore that my heart was made of unbreakable stone. I must thank you for letting me experience what true love is before my end. Pray for your Enjolras - he prays for you. _

_Yours, Enjolras_

"You read this?" Eponine asked her father between torrents of tears. She felt the pad of her father's thumb wiping some of them away, but they were too constant to be gone so quickly.

"I did." said Valjean honestly, nodding his head in affirmation.

"I'm sorry I ran off." said Eponine in a voice filled with sorrow. She began to choke up as tears poured from her eyes more and more. "And I'm sorry that I lied to you. But I do not regret doing what I did. It - led - me - to - him." By the end of her explanation, she could barely speak.

"I know." confessed Valjean, embracing his daughter in a comforting hug. She clung to him like she was a child again. "I have something for you." he continued. Eponine faced her father full-front.

"What do you have for me?" she asked in a depressed tone of voice. Valjean gave Eponine a sad smile and offered her his arm.

"Why don't you go with your dear old father to the sitting room and see for yourself?" he asked mockingly. Eponine did not reply; she simply followed his lead.

* * *

_Part 5_

The sight that Eponine was met with when she entered her sitting room caused her to cease breathing for a moment. There, lying upon her couch, was a young Revolutionary with curly blonde hair. He was deathly pale, and his face was covered in sweat, but the distinct rise and fall of his chest proved that he was alive.

Eponine made a choking noise, and tried to stop a sob from tearing through her chest. She pressed a shaking hand to her lips, and felt the tears once more. She felt, rather than saw, her father's presence behind her.

"This _is_ Enjolras, is it not?" he asked carefully. Eponine nodded her head vigorously, unable to respond. Her love, her Enjolras, was alive. He was _alive_. He was alive!

"He is not well," said Valjean seriously, in a grim tone. He wanted Eponine to proceed to her future with caution. He tried to explain the situation as delicately as he could. "He suffered severe injuries, my child. I found him a doctor not far from here who treated the gunshot wounds and removed the bullets, but he recognized the boy's face and refused to do more than that. No one wants anything to do with him simply because he sparked the Revolution. They fear for their own lives more than they fear for his."

Eponine embraced her father tightly, conveying to him all of her relief and gratitude. She could never thank him enough for giving her back her life. She dared not ask how he'd found Enjorlas or gotten him their home, but instead thanked God above for this miracle.

"I will take care of him." said Eponine quickly, in a tone that left no room for argument. Valjean nodded, and turned on his heels. He went back to his room and slept nearly the entire day away. Eponine barely noticed; she was too focused on Enjolras.

For two days more, Eponine did not leave her lover's side. She wrapped him in blankets to keep him warm, and used cool cloths to bring down the fever he was suffering from. He looked like he was knocking on death's door, but Eponine would not let her faith in him waver. If there was one thing she had learned about Enjolras since meeting him, it was that he was a fighter. He would not go down if he thought that there was anything worth living for. Eponine was confident that Enjolras would pull through - he _had _to.

The hardest parts for her were when he had nightmares, because Enjolras talked in his sleep. Eponine frequently heard him shout for random people to take cover from the bullets. She heard him call for Joly and Marius and Gavroche to run, for the Barricade had fallen. She heard her own name more frequently than anything else.

"Eponine," he would moan in a voice filled with pure agony. "Eponine...God, please take me instead...don't do it, Ep-Eponine, run from here! Take cover! Don't shoot her, she's an innocent girl! Eponine!"

There was no way for Eponine to comfort the ailing man, either. She could hug him and kiss him and speak soothing words all she wanted, but he was incoherent. There was nothing she could do until the Revolutionary awoke and saw her himself.

It seemed to take a lifetime, and Eponine was beginning to lose faith. And then one day, without warning, Enjorlas woke up.

His fever had just broken, and he was sweating from every pore on his body. His limbs were shaking, he gasped when his eyes opened, and he quickly attempted to get up.

"No!" called Eponine loudly, restraining Enjolras as best she could. It scared her how easily she stopped his movements with her small arms; he was so weak...

"I must get back to the Barricade!" shouted Enjolras madly, his eyes staring at seemingly nothing. He continued to struggle to get free. "They need me!"

"Enjolras!" shrieked Eponine in fear, forcing Enjolras to look her in the eye. "The battle is over! You were hurt, you must rest!"

"But, my friends!" screamed Enjolras. He continued to struggle, but he was losing terribly. Eponine kept a firm grip on him, and his breathing was hitched and quick. It took him a moment to speak after his outburst.

"I'm dead." Enjolras concluded. He finally seemed to recognize Eponine, because the tears poured from his eyes instantaneously. He looked at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. He stared at her face in awe and guilt. "You died s-saving me. Eponine, I deserve to burn in _hell_ for what I've done! It's my fault that you died! I led you to your death, _I _did, I am so sor-"

"Enjolras, neither of us is dead!" Eponine spoke sternly, in a tone she tried to copy from Enjolras. While it did not hold nearly as much conviction as his, it still got her point across. "You were brought here from the Barricade, and I was never shot. I'm fine, I promise you. Now rest, please."

"Ep-Eponine? Y-You're alive?" asked Enjolras incredulously, his voice wavering through his tears. "But how can that be?" He stared at the love of his life in utter disbelief. His hand found hers, and he squeezed it with all the strength he could muster. She felt solid and real and warm and _alive_.

"It doesn't matter now." said Eponine through her own tears, smiling slightly. "You're alright as well. Thank God."

Enjolras looked as though a huge weight had been taken from his shoulders. His breathing slowed and deepened, and his eyelids became heavy. His arched back slumped back on the pillows; he seemed positively exhausted. But before he blacked out, he mumbled to his girl, "I knew you were a difficult girl...knew you wouldn't give up without a fight..."

Eponine then cried tears of joy, and embraced Enjolras with all her might. He was already asleep by then, but his face finally looked peaceful. There would be many obstacles facing them in the near future. Their lives would be difficult and uncertain. But Eponine had finally found the missing piece of her heart, and she was determined to keep him safe. After all, there _had _to be a reason his heart was still beating.

* * *

Author's Note: And that's it! I'm almost dissatisfied with the ending, however, so I'm considering writing a bonus chapter to wrap everything up :) I hope you all liked it as much as I liked writing it! I realize now how much I _adore _writing for this pair :D It's fabulous! So I would love to hear your comments regarding this fic, and any ideas you may have for a bonus chapter. Don't forget to review! Thanks everybody! :)


	2. Part II

Lonely Souls

Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis :(

Author's Note: Bonus chapter time! I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews on the first part of this story - I think this may have been my favorite thing I've ever written :) Reviews, as always, are encouraged and welcomed. The rest of this story will take place in Enjolras's point of view - and may I just say how fun it was to get inside his head! Thank you everyone :)

* * *

_Part 1_

Spirits were high as the Revolutionaries built their Barricade. The people of Paris were eager to help the cause, and threw as much furniture as they could spare out their windows. The furniture crashed to the streets with loud crunches and splits, and Enjolras aided many others in stacking the furniture to form a Barricade. It was one of many, but Enjolras felt that _his _Barricade held some special meaning. Or perhaps his mind was still just foggy from the night before.

Ah, the night before. Most of his friends had had so much wine that they couldn't even remember that they had _met _the night before at the Café. But Enjolras...he'd been sure not to drink so much. Even if he died in this battle, as he was sure he was going to, he wanted to remember his night with Eponine. Eponine...simply her name distracted Enjolras to the point that he forgot where he was for a moment. It wasn't until he was shouted at by Grantaire to focus that he stopped thinking of his lover.

"Bit lethargic today, aren't we Enjolras?" teased Grantaire. "What happened to you, oh fearless leader? You, with all the energy in the first place! Wake up, my friend!"

Enjolras gave his friend a small smile, and patted him on the back. "I'm focused. I was just thinking, is all."

"About a pretty girl?" smirked Grantaire. For he knew that the leader of the Revolution did not think of women - his only focus was the Republic of France. If he lived through this Revolution, Grantaire was going to be sure to find Enjolras someone to put up with all of his stoic nonsense.

"You caught me." said Enjolras emotionlessly. Grantaire chuckled as he continued to build the Barricade. "But come now, back to the matter at hand. We must find someone to go behind enemy lines." Enjolras looked around him, and shouted clearly, "I need a volunteer! Someone who can find out their plan and when they will attack!"

A man stepped forward and offered his services to Enjolras. "I can find out the truth!" his voice was stern, and held authority. Enjolras wondered if he had once served in the police force or something along those lines. "I know their ways - fought their wars. I served my time in the days of my youth." The man looked to Enjolras expectantly, and Enjolras nodded. The man nodded as well, and then left the Barricade to proceed forward with his mission. Enjolras felt one of many weights lifted from his shoulders.

"Right then!" he shouted to everyone else. "Don't dawdle, we must build our Barricade. Remember this moment - for this is the day that freedom shall reborn!"

Enjolras's speech was followed by cheers and claps, and Enjolras himself received several pats on the back. He beamed at his followers and friends, although his mind was distant. What was Eponine doing, he wondered. Was she alright without him? Had she received his letter yet? Did she weep for him?

_"Must you go tomorrow?" _she had asked him the night before. Enjolras still clearly remembered the way she had felt in his arms. She'd been so sturdy and sure of herself, and her actions spoke of nothing to him but love. Enjolras had never known what it felt like to love a woman, but he knew the way he felt about Eponine. Enjolras had always been passionate about life, and that passion was existant in how he thought of his girl.

"I fight today for you." he whispered to himself. That was all he needed to think for the adrenaline to pump through his veins once more. Today, he fought in Eponine's name. Today, he would fight to change the world for her and for her children. Enjolras ignored the stab he felt in his heart at thinking of Eponine with a husband and children in several years. For today, he forfeigted his life, and with it, he forfeited Eponine and any possible future he could have had with her.

Enjolras looked up from his thoughts, and saw how high his Barricade had risen. He felt pride swell his heart, and he climbed to the top of his mountain with Marius by his side. Marius handed him his red flag, and someone else handed him his weapon. Smiling widely, for as far as he was concerned he had succeeded in his goal to at least alert France that revolution was possible, Enjolras sang out, "Red - the blood of angry men! Black - the dark of ages past! Red - a world about to dawn! Black - the night that ends at last!"

Breathless from his outburst, Enjolras dismounted his Barricade, and spoke words of encouragement to those who said something to him. He looked around at his fellow Revolutionaries, and saw in each man's face the yearning for a new world. He felt a pang of guilt, for the odds that these people would live through the night were slim, but they were here by choice. This was a cause worth fighting for. "Rest now!" he commanded in his best assertive tone. "There is nothing more to be done until our volunteer returns with news of the enemy force. I urge you to build your strength - no doubt you shall soon be needing it!"

The cheers came about once more, and everyone crowded around their fearless leader. Enjolras felt invincible - he knew that he was not going to make it out of his Revolution alive, and so he would plunge forth with strength and wit to do as much as he could while he still breathed. He knew that one day, others would follow his example and rise to the task of creating a new world for France.

_"Won't you at least promise to stay safe for me? I know that I am behaving selfishly, but I love you. And I don't want to be without you, Enjolras. I can't compete with your Revolution, for I know that she will always be your only love. But I wish fervently that you could just keep me in mind while you fight for freedom. Just think of the unimaginable joy that I would feel at having you come home to me." _

Eponine would not stop invading Enjolras's thoughts. All he saw in his mind's eye was her pleading gaze, and he remembered with crisp clarity the way she had _pleaded _with him to try to come home. Enjolras was more confused than he had ever been before - how could one woman matter more to him in that moment than an entire country? Than an entire _Revolution_? When he'd begun planning this day, he'd planned it with every intention of dying. Now, however, all of his carefully thought out schemes and routes were unravelling. For if he could, he wanted to return home to Eponine.

The hours passed slowly. Each second was agonizing to live through. Enjolras waited impatiently for the return of his volunteer, who he found out quickly was not who he seemed to be. Gavroche wasted no time in pointing out that the volunteer was the well known Inspector called Javert, and he was a spy from the other side. Enjolras knew he should have seen that coming - he knew he should have asked someone to go whom he trusted! In a fit of rage, Enjolras commanded that Javert be taken into the tavern and beaten. It was men like he who would be the downfall of the Barricade.

It was night, and the moon rose high into the sky. The air was cold and bitter, and Enjolras was sure he felt the stirring of rain beginning in the heavens. God was showing his support for the cause - He wept for Enjolras and his friends. He wept for their sacrifices. Enjolras knew in that moment that he was doing the right thing.

The unmistakable sound of footsteps came closer to the Barricade. The Revolutionaries immediately sprung to action, and positioned themselves for battle. Despite his confidence, Enjolras began to shake with fear. It was finally happening - the moment of truth. Everyone behind the Barricade had passed the point of no return. One of the men in uniform called to the Barricade, "Who's there?"

Enjolras swallowed. He bulked up, put his finger on the trigger of his gun, and called back in a voice as clear as day, "French Revolution!"

There was a moment of silence that lasted as long as a single heartbeat. There was no sound, not even the sound of breath. And then - "FIRE!"

Enjolras heard the sounds of the guns going off before he registered that bullets were making contact with the furniture they had piled so carefully to hide themselves from the French Army. And then the boys of the ABC Café were screaming. Guns were being used on both sides, and the men in uniform began to climb the Barricade. Marius was the first to fall. He made eye contact with Enjolras for a single moment, nodded solemnly, and went to face his fate. He was shot down before he had even made it to the top of the Barricade.

While there was no time for Enjolras to grieve just then, he stood frozen in shock for a moment. He could barely register the fact that Marius, his close friend, was _dead_. For a moment his heart was beating, and then in a flash, his life was over. Nothing could have prepared Enjolras for that.

He was on auto-pilot. He fought the men who attacked him, but his mind was drifting off to thoughts of his friends all dying like Marius had. What had Enjolras been thinking? He was simply a boy! He was a boy fighting a man's war, a war he knew from the start he had no chance of winning. Why had he chosen, then, to sacrifice all those he loved?

"Enjolras, no!" came a sudden feminine cry from behind him. Enjolras turned to the sound of it, because he _knew _that voice, and it should not have been anywhere near him.

The first thing Enjolras registered was the gun that was aimed directly for his heart. But before he could take care to climb out of the way, another human being stood in front of him and blocked the barrel. The person grabbed the gun and immediately aimed it away from Enjolras. Before he could even thank the person, the gun went off, and Enjolras's savior fell to the ground. Her cap had fallen off, and waves of curly brown hair splayed upon the ground.

"Eponine, no!"

Enjolras did not even know he was screaming until he heard himself a moment after. He forgot all else and ran to his lover, who was crumpled in a heap on the ground. Her hands were pressed tightly against her stomach, where she must have been hit with the bullet, and her eyes were shut tightly in pain. Enjolras's stone heart crumbled to dust. The rain he had felt coming on suddenly descended then, and seemed to weep for Eponine just as Enjolras was. He didn't even know that he was crying - he couldn't understand how to release the grief he felt swelling inside of him. It was too much to bare.

"Eponine!" sobbed Enjolras again, his voice rough and cracked. He was sure he sounded like a heart-broken child, but he could hardly bring himself to care. He continued to run to Eponine as he cried out, "God, no! Please tell me you're alright, Eponine, please!"

"Don't you fret, Monsieur Enjolras." whispered Eponine in a voice that would not have disturbed the angels. He immediately knelt to her side, and gathered her small form in his arms. He was aware of nothing else at all other than Eponine - he did not even know if the battle was still going on. Eponine continued to speak rhythmically in a continuously weakening voice while Enjolras sobbed over her. "I don't feel any pain." Enjolras suddenly realized how cruel he was being - he was letting his darling Eponine become soaking wet and chilled to the bone! He instantly began to remove his coat with the intent of using it to shield her from the rain, but Eponine shook her head sadly. "A little fall of rain...can hardly hurt me now. _You're _here - that's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe...and you will keep me close...and rain...will make the flowers...grow..."

Eponine's bravery only upset Enjolras further, and he swore he had never cried so hard in his life. Here was _his _woman, dying in his arms because of _his _stupidity. He knew that he had no choice but to die now; a world without Eponine meant nothing at all, and Enjolras knew that he deserved to burn in Hell for all eternity for his selfishness. Of course she would have followed him to the Barricade! She wanted to keep him safe! _He _should have made sure _she _was safe! He suddenly began to ramble to Eponine about his undying love for her and all she meant to him; he did not really know what he was saying, but he knew that he had to keep speaking. For if he grew silent, all was lost, and he would finally forfeit Eponine's life.

Before he was finished speaking, however, Enjolras felt Eponine go limp in his arms. It took him a moment to register what exactly that meant. In that moment, Enjolras's world came crashing down around him. "No..." he sobbed brokenly, losing all of his carefully stored control. His tears blinded him, and he shook Eponine's shoulders violently. "No, come back!" he pleaded. He did not know who was speaking to, but he couldn't just do nothing. "Eponine, come back! _No!"_

"Enjolras, we should take her to the tavern."

Enjolras barely registered Combeferre's words. All he understood from them was that someone wanted to take Eponine from his arms.

"_Don't touch her_!" spat Enjolras venomously. Instantly, anyone who had surrounded him backed off. He held Eponine more tightly against him, and stood carefully. Despite his shaking limbs and swollen eyes, Enjolras took Eponine to the tavern himself. He would keep her precious body safe from any harm. He laid her carefully upon the ground on the third floor of the Café, where they had spent their beautiful night together. How tragically beautiful that that was where she would set up her everlasting rest. He gently placed a kiss upon her forehead, and looked at her one last time. She looked so peaceful...almost like she was sleeping.

Enjolras could not bear the pain. He turned on his heels without a second glance and went back to the Barricade. Enjolras felt positively ruthless - anyone who got in the way of his fight for freedom would perish. He felt the rage spread through his entire body, right down to his fingers and toes. He was ready for battle.

* * *

_Part 2_

No one spoke to Enjolras about the events which had transpired. Everyone almost shied away from him, frightened of setting him off. Enjolras did not mind; he needed time alone. The battle was over for the time being, but the war had only just begun. He hid himself behind a corner, and listened with sorrow at the sound of his friends singing to each other of all the good times. Enjolras should have been out there reminiscing with them. But he couldn't even bring himself to stand up.

Instead, he sang quietly to himself, in a delicate and weepy voice. _"Life without 'Ponine means nothing at all! Oh 'Ponine, you came here only to fall...I shall weep...'Ponine...for thee..."_

_"I never believed in love at first sight, you know. But I knew when I saw you this morning that I had to meet you. It was almost like I was drawn to you, or something. I still don't know what it is I'm feeling, but I know that I should like to continue to be with you, Monsieur. Oh, Enjolras..." _

Her voice was still clear in his mind, and it made Enjolras's heart ache with a pain he was sure he would feel for the rest of his short life to know that he would never hear her sweet voice again. That angel's voice, that perfect voice, that soothing and emotional and passionate voice...oh, Eponine...

"...he's in no condition to speak with you at the moment, however, Monsieur. You see, he's just lost his girl. I think he called her Eponine..."

"You'll take me, then?"

"Yes, but beware - if you shoot us in the back, you will not live to tell!"

Enjolras barely took note of the conversation he heard coming from several feet to his left. His friends, his family, his boys...men, now...must have been gaining another volunteer.

"Because what's one more life?" asked Enjolras sourly, wishing for a drink. All he wanted was to drink away the pain and guilt he felt. His Revolution would do nothing! They would lose, and everyone gathered would die. What was the point?

And then, everything became perfectly clear to Enjolras; in one moment, everything snapped back into focus. From back where everyone was gathered, he heard young Gavroche singing, _"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!"_

Enjolras smiled as he heard his friends taking charge of what needed to be done. The faith was renewed, and they spoke of the ammunition that they needed and their new plans of attack. He had almost gained the energy to return to them...

When a gunshot went off.

Enjolras ran back to the others, where he saw several of his friends sobbing over the small lifeless body of Gavroche. From beyond the wall of furniture, he heard the French Army call out,

"You at the Barricade, listen to this! The people of Paris sleep in their beds! You have no chance, no chance at all! Why throw your lives away?"

Enjolras spoke up then, and commanded the attention of everyone present. He was their fearless leader once more, and he held his gun tightly in his hands. Others did likewise. "Let us die facing our foes!" Enjolras's voice rang out, and he even believed himself for a moment. "Make them bleed while we can! Let others rise to take our place until the earth is free!"

Enjolras raised his gun then, and aimed it with all the precision of a deadly hunter. "FIRE!" he shouted, and then the guns began to go off. Everyone left at the Barricade seemed to understand that this was the end - they knew that the only success they could hope to have at this battle was to kill as many of the French soldiers as they could. Enjolras heard the other side call for cannons, and he could only pray that everything would end quickly.

The men in uniform began to fire as well, and Enjolras heard someone from behind him tell him to take cover. "Take cover, boy!" they begged. Enjolras barely heard them - he had to eliminate as many of his foes as he could!

The cannons came then, and destroyed the Barricade that had become something of a home to the men behind it. The weaponry of the French army deteriorated all that Enjolras had worked for, and the enemy began to cross over to the Revolutionaries. All of the men Enjolras knew and regarded as friends began to drop like flies, and blood was everywhere. You couldn't take three steps without seeing something horrendous enough to scar your mind for the rest of your days. Enjolras almost felt like throwing up.

Several of the survivors grabbed Enjolras by the arms and led him into the Café, due to the fact that the people of Paris refused to open their doors to the begging Revolutionaries. Enjolras knew that the cause was finished, and now would have been the time for him to find a way home to Eponine.

But Eponine was gone, and her peaceful and graceful body was lying on the ground a floor above him and his friends. He, Grantaire, Combeferre, and Joly stood together, huddled in fright. They had made the transition from men to boys once more, and suddenly, they were just frightened children. Enjolras looked around him at the floor of the ABC Café where all of this had been planned. Had it been only a day since the room had been filled with laughter and joy?

"We have to get out of here!" screeched Grantaire in panic, his head whipping back and forth trying to figure out a way to escape.

"The sewers!" suggested Joly suddenly. "Back down on the street, no one would see us leave through there!"

"We must go quickly!" agreed Combeferre. The three boys immediately ran to the staircase to go back to their new exit, but Enjolras stayed behind. Grantaire noticed this, and turned around in shock.

"Enjolras, come quickly! We have to go or the soldiers will catch up to us!" he shouted.

Enjolras picked up his red revolutionary flag from the floor of the Café. He twirled it in his hands a few times before making his decision. The Revolution was his ship, and he was the captain. He would go down with it. "You go." he told them. "My choice is to stay." Before his three surviving friends could argue with him, Enjolras snapped. "I will not have your deaths on my conscience also! Get out while you still have a chance! Take to the sewers, go _now_! This is my choice, this is what _I _choose! Leave me!"

He saw his friends begin to tear up, and they hesitated for only a fraction of a second before darting back down the staircase. He could only hope they would make it out before the men in uniform caught up with them.

It was several minutes before Enjolras was found on the second floor of the Café. A single solider with the foe's face turned up, and made eye contact with him. It was uncomfortable for a moment, before the obviously inexperienced soldier shot his gun. The bullet came towards Enjolras with great velocity before striking his abdomen with a heavy force. Enjolras fell back onto the ground, his life's blood spilling out. He felt another bullet puncture his leg, and he still held his revolutionary flag as he blacked out.

His last coherent thought was of Eponine's smiling face.

* * *

_Part 3_

Darkness. If Enjolras was aware of anything at all in his state, it was darkness. There was no pain. There was no memory. There was only darkness. Enjolras did not know how long the darkness lasted - it could have been hours, or it could have been years. It seemed to pass instantaneoulsy, and then he began to feel pain again.

The pain Enjolras felt was both psychological and physical. Only certain things came to his mind; the fall of the Barricade, the fall of his friends, and the fall of his Eponine were the prominent images he could ascertain in the hazy darkness. He could not hear the cries or the gunshots, but he knew they were existant. What would have been a nightmare to everyone else had been a reality Enjolras had lived through.

He tried to call out to them. He pushed the words and screams from his body, but no matter what he did, the end result was the same. The miserable people of France blamed him for their lack of freedom, his friends fell with his Revolution, and he died a gruesome and painful death.

If only that were the end of the story.

* * *

_Part 4_

Enjolras was sure that he had a guardian angel keeping watch over him. How else could his heart have been beating when he awoke from the darkness?

He shot up from his resting position, wherever he was, and looked about wildly. His eyes were still blind to his location; they were open, he could tell, but they saw nothing but darkness. His head whipped back and forth quickly, and he panted, "I must get back to the Barricade! They need me!"

Where was Grantaire? Where was Combeferre? Where was Joly? Where were his friends? Where was the Barricade? All Enjolras could feel beneath his numb limbs was softness, and he knew that he could not have been anywhere outside. Why had someone taken him from the Barricade? Why had someone taken him from the fight? He had to avenge Eponine and free the citizens of France! He had to fix the world, he had to get out of wherever he was being held captive!

"Enjolras!" a shaky and terrified voice called to him. Enjolras's vision was beginning to clear; the blackness was beginning to fade. The voice - which was very near him - continued to speak as he regained some of his sanity. "The battle is over! You were hurt, you must rest!"

He could almost see now, but that did not answer his question. "But my friends!" he gasped angrily. Where had they gone? Had they gotten out safely? Were they going to meet him somewhere? He struggled to loosen himself from a grip he was suddenly aware of on his arms, but it was no use. The person holding him down was too strong.

And then, Enjolras's blindness ended. All was white save the face he could see right in front of his eyes. There, in all of her marvelous glory, was Eponine. Her eyes were filled with fear, but she had color to her face and a heartbeat. She was the angel who was stopping him from hurting himself. It was then that Enjolras realized..."I'm dead." he spoke softly, letting the idea of death register with him. It was all so surreal, but as long as he was with his love, he did not mind death. And then he realized that the angel with him _was _still the real Eponine, and he had a lot of apologizing to do. He knew in his heart of hearts that he did not deserve her. "You died s-saving me. Eponine, I deserve to burn in _hell _for what I've done! It's my fault that you died! I led you to your death, _I _did, I am so sor-"

But Eponine cut him off. She had a mask of ease upon her glorious face, and it did wonders to slow Enjolras's nervously quick heart rate. Strange; why did his heart beat in heaven?

"Enjolras, neither of us is dead!" Eponine spoke sternly, in a tone of beautiful authority. Everything about Eponine was beautiful. "You were brought here from the Barricade, and I was never shot. I'm fine, I promise you. Now rest, please."

And suddenly, a burning pain in Enjolras's abdomen brought him back to reality and he realized how very much he _hurt_. The pain was everywhere, especially behind his left eye. His head pounded, and he resisted the urge to moan in agony. Oh, he felt so _sick_...but what had Eponine said?

"Ep-Eponine? Y-You're alive?" he questioned incredulously. But no! She had died in his very arms, he remembered that with painful clarity! Then how was she here with him? "But how can that be?" he asked innocently. He yearned for answers that he was too weak to acknowledge.

Eponine answered him, but he could barely make out the words. All he saw was her smiling face, and he squeezed her hand tightly. It was flesh alright, and she felt warm and real. It did not matter how; Eponine was alive, even if it was only a dream. Enjolras let his exhaustion overtake him at last, and he slumped back against the pillows. His heavy eyelids began to lower, and he tried to say something to Eponine before he lost consciousness, but he wasn't sure if he pushed the words out in time.

* * *

_Part 5_

Enjolras was on the mend for _many _weeks, and he still wasn't sure if he would ever be able to walk with the use of a cane again. He was staying in Eponine's home with Eponine and her father, and they treated him like a member of their family. Eponine was Enjolras's angel, indeed; without her support and unyielding love, he knew he never would have made it through his illnesses and injuries at all. He had her to thank for his life.

Her being alive was still surreal to him; at night, he still dreamt of her death and awoke with tears in his eyes. He would not go back to sleep until he saw for himself that her heart still beat. He wasn't sure if he would ever overcome the nightmares. Even when Eponine explained to him the reason she had feigned her death, he could not shake the feeling that she had actually died. It was a pain he knew his heart could never forget.

Three weeks after he'd awoken to find Eponine alive, Enjolras was also granted a surprise visit by Grantaire, Combeferre, and Joly, who had survived the battle just as he had. They had not been to see him sooner because they had believed him to be dead; they were the ones who had told the heroic stories of his demise to the citizens of Paris. When Eponine had found them wandering in the street one day while she was in town, she had told them of her lover's survival, and they could not have been more excited and proud.

To France, it was just another night, but Enjolras could not slumber. He laid in his bed in deep thought, wondering about life and love and fate. He thought back on the night he met Eponine, and what could have happened had they not confessed their love to each other. Truth be told, Enjolras thought he would probably be dead. He was just meditating on this fact when his bedroom door opened. Eponine stood behind the threshold.

"May I come in?" she whispered quietly, standing on her tip-toes. Enjolras nodded vigorously.

"Of course, my love." he responded equally as softly. He did his best to move to the side of the bed without hurting his injuries, and patted the spot next to him. Eponine dashed as quickly as she could to his side, and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. There was no place more comfortable for her than his embrace.

"I feel safer when I'm with you." she confessed. She snuggled into him further, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Enjolras felt secure with his lover in his arms, feeling the steady rising and falling of her chest. It healed his heart in a way to know that she was breathing.

"As do I." Enjolras told Eponine. "Have you had a nightmare?" he asked her unashamedly. He felt Eponine nod against his shoulder.

"Yes." she whimpered quietly. Enjolras could feel tears beginning to stain his shirt. Eponine was crying. "All I saw was your face when they shot you, and I just thought...that it wasn't really a nightmare. That _did _happen, and there might have been something that I could have done to save you from such pain! You died Enjolras, you were dead, you-"

"But I didn't." reassured Enjolras, holding Eponine to him more tightly. She clung to him desperately, placing a hand on his chest. He knew she was feeling for his heartbeat. "I'm alive and I'm here with you, 'Ponine. I swear never to leave your side again as long as I live."

"You promise?" asked Eponine sadly. Enjolras could practically hear her doubt.

"I promise." he swore earnestly. "Eponine?"

"Yes, Enjolras?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything. I swear to you."

"Marry me."

In response to his question, Enjolras received the most enthusiastic of kisses. And so it was that Eponine and Enjolras became Eponine _and _Enjolras, one never without the other. Not all stories got their happy ending, but at least Eponine and Enjolras were counted among the lucky and _not _among the miserable.

* * *

Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I cried while writing half of this chapter. And that has _never _happened to me while writing before. So it's official - Eponine & Enjolras are my OTP. They have officially replaced Erik and Christine from Phantom for me. They just seem so perfect together :') I really liked writing from Enjolras's point of view - it was difficult to pick his brain apart, but fun just the same :) I know most of this was just the original one-shot from his point of view, but I think that there was a lot we missed about the battle reading strictly from Eponine's POV. And I wanted to add a true happy ending for the pair :) And I let Grantaire, Joly, and Combeferre live because...well, I wanted Enjolras to have some friends left. That was truly the only reason - I wanted him to be happy :) Long live the Revolution! I hope everyone enjoyed this two-shot! Expect more Enjonine goodness coming your way soon - subscribe to my account or just check in frequently to see when I post again. Don't forget to review, and thank you a _million _times for reading my humble tale :)


End file.
